Rites of Passage: Meeting My 84-Year-Old Father’s New Girlfriend
His one-finger-peck technique meant he was perpetually bent over his screen, loafing at the breakfast table amid drained coffee cups or lingering in the car long after the rest of us had gotten out. His phone was set to ping loudly — for the benefit of octogenarian ears — with each text’s arrival. Ping! Ping!…
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